Dragon Age Snippets
by TennantBird
Summary: These are excerpts from my Grey Warden Jeirey's adventures in Ferelden. I'm not certain if I'll ever get around to writing a full-out fanfic, but in the meantime, I'll just write little scenes and update this as I see fit! Enjoy.
1. The Boy In the Cage

Dolna was not happy.

Even though the oldest servant at Redcliffe castle kept a calm and sophisticated demeanor, I could tell from the moment she walked into the dormitory that something was amiss. I looked up and quickly stuffed the kitchen utensils I'd been playing with in my pockets, hoping I wasn't the reason she was disgruntled. Technically I wasn't supposed to have such toys; Reynnor, the elf on kitchen duty, had smuggled them out for me. I was the youngest elf here, in training to become a servant, so he was always taking pity on me and supplying me with playthings and treats.

Luckily Dolna had other things on her mind. She marched straight past me until she reached the middle of the room, where she proceeded to clap her hands until everyone quieted. "The young master has gone missing," she announced.

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. The situation wasn't as bad as I'd feared. The "young master" title referred to Arl Eamon's charge - a human boy about my age named Alistair. I'd never met this boy, myself, but I'd caught glimpses of him from time to time. Strictly speaking he wasn't a "master" of any sort; in fact, he was a late serving girl's orphan from the royal palace in Denerim. But since Arl Eamon had taken him in, the servants here opted to call him master, to be safe. The last thing we wanted was to get on a human's bad side. Nobody knew why the arl had done such a kind act towards a commoner, but no one had the guts to question it. There were rumors that Alistair was Arl Eamon's illegitimate son, however, as the man refused to say who the father was. I would never understand the outrage some people expressed at such gossip until much later.

At any rate, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Alistair was a little mischievous and would often hide around the castle. It was more of a nuisance than an alarm if no one could find him in time for supper. Still, the arl appreciated it if we kept an eye out for him, which was what Dolna said next; "Everyone is to go on with chores as normal; just keep an eye out for the boy."

The elves in the room either shrugged or nodded and went back to what they were doing. I was about to take my makeshift toys out again when Dolna approached me. "Come with me, Jeirey. I could use your help with some things."

I sighed - there went my play time - and got to my feet, following the white-haired woman into the hall.

Things were hectic. The arl was to be married that month, so everyone was preparing. Servants and more important people alike scuttled about carrying armloads of fabric or food or paper. It had been like this for a few days now, and it only got worse with each passing one.

Naturally, right when we stepped out of the servant's quarters and started walking, my ragged skirt started clinking, heavy with tableware. For a moment it seemed as if the bustle around us would mask it, but much to my disappointment Dolna caught on quickly. The next chance she got she pulled me aside. "Do you have what I think you have in your pockets?" she asked, a scolding tone in her voice.

Of course she already knew the answer, so there was no use in lying. Sullenly I nodded and fished the silverware out of my pockets, handing them to her without meeting her gaze. This had not been the first time she'd caught me with such items.

She gently took the kitchenware and I heard a sigh. Glancing up, I saw that her sharp features had softened. I couldn't tell what the look in her eyes meant. Pity? Fondness? Sorrow? Maybe it was a mixture of all three. Maybe it was something entirely different.

When we started walking again, the old woman took my hand. I was surprised but pleased at the sign of affection, though I didn't say anything.

In a few minutes we reached our destination; the room that the arl was to move into after he married. We set to work by arranging bedding on the brand-new four poster bed, sitting proudly in the middle of the room. It still smelled of fresh oak. Even though nobody was using it yet, appearances were still important, it seemed.

Dolna's pockets jingled the entire time, and I couldn't help a longing glance every once in a while in her direction.

My forlorn looks were not unnoticed. After we made the bed I waited for the old elf to announce the next task, but instead she put her hands on her hips and studied me in a contemplative way. I didn't ask her what she was doing despite my burning curiosity; I never spoke much. From watching other servants I knew that a misplaced word could turn the tides quickly, all-too-often ending up with a flogging. By then it was a force of habit to not speak unless prompted, even with other servants whom I knew would not harm me.

Finally the silence was broken. Dolna surprised me again by removing the spoons and forks from her skirt pockets. "Don't tell anyone," was all she said as I seized my toys with delight. I plopped down right where I was and continued the game I had been playing in the servants' quarters. The other elf smiled and proceeded to dust the bookcases.

Soon she finished that chore, but she didn't start another. I hesitated playing and glanced up inquiringly when I felt her presence in front of me. She knelt down and brushed a strand of my dark brown hair away from my face. "Have I told you how much you look like your mother, Jeirey? Such green eyes..."

I blinked in confusion, my eyebrows drawing together. What was this, all of a sudden? I wasn't aware Dolna knew my parents. _I_ didn't know my parents.

Seeing the question in my eyes, Dolna continued. "Your mother's name was Adaia. I was friends with her parents. Adaia was... rambunctious, to say the least. But she brought a spark of life that the alienage had not been blessed with for many years." She hesitated, seeming to ask herself if she should tell me the next part. I saw her steel herself, and she continued. "Unfortunately, that liveliness is what ultimately killed her. She got on the wrong side of humans" - she made a face as she said the word - "that wielded too much power only a couple years after you were born."

Dolna paused again, obviously waiting for me to add input. But what could I say? I never knew this woman Dolna spoke of - whom she claimed to be my very own mother. My earliest memories were of Redcliffe, where I was right then. My young mind simply couldn't comprehend that I could have had a different, if not somewhat better, life in Denerim's alienage. So I remained silent.

The old woman realized I wasn't going to speak, so eventually she continued. "After your mother was killed, your father... Cyrion. He was so scared that they would harm the people close to Adaia - _you_ - as well... I was about to leave for this place, so I offered to take you along. And now here you are." She took a deep breath. "I wish it hadn't come to that. I wish you could have stayed with your father. I wish your mother was still alive." Anger filled her eyes quite suddenly, and she clenched her fists. "If it wasn't for those sodding _shem_ we would all be happier," she spat as an afterthought. "Every single elf."

So that was it. Dolna wanted to let me know that the humans had ruined my life. But for some reason I didn't feel angry. Or even sad. The same calm that I'd had at the beginning of the conversation remained.

"I don't hate humans," I stated quietly.

Dolna stared at me for a long moment, a mixture of bewilderment and concern on her face. How could I not hate humans, especially after all she'd just told me? Even if they hadn't been responsible for my current situation, they were still the reason most elves suffered.

Then tears welled up in her pale eyes, and she leaned forward to embrace me. "Oh, child," she said, her voice full of emotion. "I'm so sorry."

The exact meaning of her apology is still a mystery to me this day. Nonetheless I found myself wrapping my scrawny arms around her in return, very tightly. I couldn't remember the last time someone had given me a hug.

After a bit she released me. With a fond smile, she told me, "Go on and find somewhere to play, where nobody can see you. Off you go, then!"

A small smile came to my lips and I wasted no time gathering my silverware. With a final shooing motion from Dolna I was out the door and hurrying away, the words "Just be in the dorm before dark!" at my back.

My smile quickly turned into a grin. It wasn't every day that I got the chance to play all evening. I knew just the place to go, too.

Within a few minutes I was standing outside the kennel room. I knew that most of the mabari were out, either training or on duty, and wouldn't be back until sunset. The same went for their masters. I'd hidden in the kennels before on occasion, and I'd never been caught before.

Eagerly I reached for the door handle, but right as I was about to pull it, I heard something coming from the other side. Instinctively I shrank away and pressed my back against the wall, already flinching as I expected a trainer to come out and notice me.

But nobody came. I blinked a couple times, then listened carefully. The noise I'd heard was shuffling that definitely didn't belong to a dog, but then again it didn't really sound like a kennel master, either...

My curiosity piqued, I dared to open the door just a crack and peeked through. I couldn't see anyone, so I risked pulling it open a little wider... only to have the hinges creak. The shuffling stopped, and my heart leaped into my throat in terror. If I'd been wrong about the noise not belonging to a trainer, a beating was almost a certainty in my immediate future.

"Who's there?" a suspicious voice called out.

It took me a moment to register that it had belonged to someone young, and it took me even longer to pry my fingers away from the door and move. Hesitantly I stepped inside, clutching my skirt for comfort. I found myself staring at a human boy with dirty blonde hair who couldn't have been much older than me. Alistair.

He was sitting inside one of the war hounds' cages, glaring fiercely through the bars until he took in my appearance and decided I wasn't a threat. As soon as that had been established his attitude instantly changed, and he smiled at me. "Hello. Can you help me?"

I was confused at his sudden mood swing, so I only stood where I was and tried to make sense of this situation. What was he doing in here? Surely he hadn't come to play by himself, like me. He had no need to sneak away in order to do such things. Besides, he was in a cage... a closed cage at that. Had someone locked him in there?

Alistair's eyebrows rose with curiosity when I didn't reply. "Look, I just need you to pull that lever right there..." He reached his arm through the cage, sticking out his tongue as he grasped wildly at thin air, showing me he couldn't reach the lever that he spoke of.

Tentatively I inched forward a few steps, but I didn't approach the lever. I was still wondering what in the name of Andraste Alistair was doing locked up in a mabari war hound's cage. I kept my gaze on him, mentally willing him to see the inquiry in my eyes. In return, though, I only got an expression of puzzlement.

Right when I was about to give in and speak what was on my mind, he caught on. "Are you wondering what I'm doing in here?" Then, "Can you even talk?"

I nodded in response to both questions.

"Okay..." He gave me a strange look. "Well, I came here because Eamon was fawning over Lady Isolde. I wanted to see how long it would take before he noticed I went missing. But... I should've known better. He never looks for me himself."

If I wasn't mistaken I heard two separate pleas for attention there. I decided to keep that to myself, however, and we remained silent for several heartbeats before I spoke, barely audible; "Why here?"

The little boy pressed his face against the bars of the cage. "Sorry, what? You're really quiet."

I had to resist the urge to giggle; the way his nose and cheeks were smooshed was rather amusing. A smile managed to appear on my mouth as I raised my voice ever-so-slightly. "Why here? You... locked yourself in this cage?"

Alistair sat back on his heels, rubbing his right cheek where there was now a red mark. "Oh. I came here because I've never hidden here before. Why are _you_ here, anyway? Aren't you a servant?"

The question caught me off-guard, so I didn't notice he'd avoided one of my own. My hands clenched around the fabric of my skirt once again, displaying my discomfort with talking to strangers - and the nervousness I felt at the mention of me being a servant. "P-Please don't tell anyone," I whimpered.

"Huh? No! I won't tell anyone. Don't worry." He seemed surprised that I would think he'd do such a thing. "I can't even if I wanted to, since I'm kind of stuck here." He motioned at the lever. "Could you... let me out now? It's pretty boring in here. And I'd like to stand up."

Right. I'd almost forgotten about that. I nodded and hurried over to the lever, and with a heave I pushed it down. With much clanking that made me wince - what if someone outside heard? - the cage opened. Alistair scrambled out on his hands and knees, then stood up and stretched. "Ah, that's much better!" he said with a grin. "Thanks. I would've gotten out myself, but the string I used to pull the lever to shut the cage broke." Sure enough, when I glanced down there was a piece of frayed twine tied to the switch.

Alistair then approached me, putting his hands on his hips. Yet his gaze was friendly. "So whatcha down here for?" he repeated his earlier question.

I found myself having to look up at the other child. Maybe he was larger-than-average for a human of his age, or maybe I was just small even by elf standards. I wouldn't know, though, seeing as I'd never seen another human kid up close before - and never would again until I was an adult, for that matter. Either way, I was slightly intimidated. Unwittingly I began fidgeting with the hem of my heavily patched shirt, and I swallowed hard before whispering, "To play."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I started to wonder if he'd even heard what I'd said before he finally spoke. "Are you scared or something?" he asked, concern touching his features as he tilted his head to the side.

It was strange, seeing a human with that facial expression. I'd always thought that worry was an emotion reserved for those close to you; the only people in my life who'd ever shown such care for me were Dolna and Reynnor. In fact, I hadn't been aware that humans were capable of such an emotion. They had always been our cold, distant masters, and despite the fact that I did not hate them, they were not anyone to stop and chat with, ever.

Yet here I was, this human boy - this funny, peculiar human boy - showing compassion I'd not thought possible for me. Suddenly my fear melted away.

I shook my head vigorously, more confident now. "No. Want to play with me?"

"Yeah!" he agreed without hesitation, a grin spreading across his face.

"Good. I brought toys," I informed him, straight to the point. I pulled out the kitchen utensils from my pockets and spread them out across the floor, dropping to a sitting position. Alistair followed suit, grabbing a spoon.

"These can be the Orlesians," he said with enthusiasm. "And then the forks can be the Fereldans!" He proceeded to create a detailed scenario as I listened eagerly.

And so we acted out the Fereldan rebellion with forks and spoons. Soon it turned into something more elaborate - at one point I grew bold enough to climb on top of the cage Alistair had locked himself in and jump off, expecting him to catch me. He didn't, of course (I more or less crushed him, landing in a heap on top of him), but luckily the fall wasn't too high. It only resulted in a few bruises.

That didn't stop us, though. We continued our game for several hours before we heard hounds approaching and we made a run for it. We said our goodbyes in a secluded hallway and then went our separate ways.

Unfortunately, I would not get to meet the kind human boy again for quite some time. Alistair was sent to the Chantry about a year later at Lady Isolde's insistance. I was also transferred, to the bann of Honnleath's estate.

Mine and Alistair's lives would be entwined soon enough, however. Fate had something very, very big in store for the two of us.

**_***In case you're confused... _**

_Jeirey's name is pronounced "jay-ree". _

_I tweaked the city elf origin; she is still a Tabris, and her mother and father are Adaia and Cyrion like in the actual game. However, I sort of wanted Jeirey and Alistair to have some encounter before they met each other at Ostagar, and so I toyed with the idea of her having been sent away to be a servant by her father because he was so scared that she would be hurt by the humans that killed Adaia._

_If you have any other questions, feel free to message me and ask! :)_


	2. The Dark Forest

The Brecilian Forest was creepy. That much my companions and I could agree on within minutes of entering the dense expanse of twisted, bowing trees. The Dalish camp had seemed so bright, the trees sparsely placed, but take one step out of bounds and the sun disappeared between the canopy of leaves in moments. And as soon as that happened, the animals of the forest decided that everything out of place was free game to attack. We had run into a pack of wolves that practically ambushed us only a couple of paces in. They were easily defeated, but it was still somewhat alarming how they had taken us off guard.

It was only a little later when we ran into the werewolves the Dalish had told us about. Even though we weren't caught too terribly by surprise when they came, nothing prepared me for how huge the beasts were. The only thing humanoid about them was their bipedality and apparent ability to speak. Otherwise they were clearly and purely wolf.

It also didn't help that Sarel, the Dalish storyteller, was right; the forest seemed alive. I would lead my companions around a bend in the trail and turn around seconds later to discover the place I could have sworn I'd come from had disappeared. It was quite unsettling, and I could tell Wynne and Alistair and even Zevran were getting somewhat nervous as well. Whether I should take that as comfort that I wasn't alone in my uneasiness or as even more reason to be anxious I wasn't sure.

"Weren't we just here?" I broke the tense silence, voice strained with frustration as I noticed a bush with distinctly shaped leaves that I was sure I had already seen. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face the group, waiting for their input.

Wynne frowned. "Maybe. But there's no way to be sure."

At that Zevran knelt down, lightly brushing his hand over the mossy ground, a look of concentration on his face. "I cannot sense any tracks, but I am no expert in tracking in the wilderness. Alas, our fair mage has a point."

The old woman shot him a warning glance and Zevran returned it with a sly grin. I was in no mood for his schemes so I ignored him with a sigh, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. The Antivan was still new to the party, having only joined us around a week ago - after ambushing us and attempting to assassinate Alistair and I on our way from Redcliffe Castle to the Circle of Magi.

Frankly, I don't know what possessed me to decide it was a good idea to let him come along with us. There was just something... fascinating about the man, and I knew it sounded strange so I never told anyone that outright, but one of the perks of being the leader was that your word could be law. So I stood firmly by my decision to keep Zevran, and the only way anyone really argued with me was by giving the elf suspicious glares all the time. But there had been no further attempts from him on mine or Alistair's lives in the following week, and he had actually been quite amiable, towards me, at least, so I figured I could afford to bring him along on a larger-scale adventure. Maybe he could prove himself to everyone.

"We could leave markers of some sort," Alistair piped up. "Slash a tree trunk every few minutes or something."

"Good idea." I perked up, nodding appreciatively at my human friend. He smiled, proud to contribute something useful to our cause, and I couldn't help but smile back. Turning back around, I pulled out my dagger and swiped a couple of times at the nearest tree, leaving a rough but obvious hash mark. "That ought to do it."

We continued, hacking at various trees as we went, and although we did indeed backtrack a little bit, in the long run the method helped remove a lot of the horrible doubt that had plagued us earlier. We still didn't know where we were really going, however.

Eventually we came across a sort of fork in the trail. Well, it was more like the trail curved off to the left, while there was a gentle slope with hardly any plantgrowth on it to the right. This was curious within itself, but when I craned my neck in an attempt to get a glimpse above the peak of the small hill I thought I saw something glittering. I considered the situation for a moment, trying to decide if it was worth going up the hill to check it out (and possibly get lost in the process) versus just continuing on the trail. Finally I concluded that it wouldn't hurt to investigate; it was a small hill, after all, and I could hear water roaring somewhere nearby so it probably just led to a riverbank, therefore eliminating much of a chance of getting completely off-track.

I signaled to the group to follow me, and we crept up the slope. We were on high alert now; who knew what was on the other side? Could be anything from bandits to harmless bunnies, for all we knew. From the glint of light I'd seen, I was honestly hoping it was something that we could scavenge, like an abandoned camp.

What we _weren't_ expecting were darkspawn.

Neither I nor Alistair realized the telltale Grey Warden warning signals in our heads before two hurlocks charged at us. My eyes went wide at the sight of them, but luckily my reflexes were sharp and our swords clashed before I was even over my shock. As the ghastly creature and I struggled to overpower one another, Alistair came up from the side and stabbed it in the gut. Zevran and Wynne dealt with the other one, and breathlessly we dashed the rest of the way up the hill to be greeted with the unwelcome sight of an entire scouting party - at least ten monsters awaited us.

My blood went cold, but there was no time to stop and gawk as the rest of the darkspawn took notice of us. A short and stumpy genlock locked its rotting gaze on me and let out an ugly screech, banging its crude blade against a hunk of stone it used as a shield before leaping. I took the opportunity as it hurtled towards me and ran my longsword through its chest, receiving a spatter of dark blood in my face. Wrinkling my nose, I decapitated the loathsome creature with a swing of my dagger.

I spat and turned to face my next opponent.

The fight raged on for a while longer, the odds very clearly in our favor. We may not have been anticipating encountering darkspawn, but they were nothing we hadn't dealt with before. So far, none of them had even managed a blow to my skin.

There were only five left now, one of them a genlock archer near the edge of the river, shooting at us from afar and mocking me with its disgusting, malformed grin. Leaving the other four to my companions, I went after it almost cheerfully as I envisioned the end of the battle and being able to get on with our werewolf hunt.

Those thoughts were all but obliterated from my mind, however, as the tingling sensation at the back of my mind set off alarm bells and I turned to see an ogre. The genlock rogue scurried away to fight my friends as I took in the sight of the giant darkspawn, blue flesh rippling with hulking muscles. It roared, and spittle flung from its mouth all over me.

With a yell of my own I attacked, swinging my sword and dagger wildly at its bulky legs. When it came to ogres, there was no real strategy except to group together and attack from all sides, but everyone else was occupied with the remaining hurlocks and genlocks. I was too high on adrenaline to think twice about assaulting this beast on my own, though, so I continued rather foolishly.

I was drawing blood, but the ogre was hardly hindered by the mere equivalent of paper cuts on its appendages. It almost sounded as though it laughed, then with a frightening whoosh of air, it swept its hand down and grabbed me.

A bloodcurdling scream was released from my mouth on instinct as I struggled, trying to move my arms that were pinned to my sides. My legs and head thrashed. This thing could kill me with a single blow. I needed to get out of the ogre's grip _now._

"_Jeirey!_" I dimly heard a voice - Alistair's? - shout in panic from somewhere below. I was awfully high up, I realized...

The ogre roared again, then pounded its free fist into my chest. I could feel my armor dent, pressing into my ribs. My eyes went wide and I coughed and gagged up blood in an attempt to inhale but to no avail - my breath was completely gone. Black swirls swam in my vision and my ears rang as I fought vainly to get air to my lungs. The tight grasp of the ogre's fingers did not help my efforts. I saw a blur of a shape rise in front of me, and some part of my mind knew that it was the huge fist coming in for another blow, but all I could think was _I need air I need air I need air I CAN'T BREATHE-_

And then there was a cacophony of noise from the ogre and I was falling. With a jerk of my head I landed in someone's arms. Dazedly I swiveled my neck around and found myself looking into the face of Zevran. He looked somewhat agitated, if I wasn't mistaken.

_That's funny,_ I thought. The suave elf wasn't usually one to show much worry for others.

His mouth was moving and I heard the sound of his voice but my ears couldn't grasp the meaning of his words. All I could do was stare dumbly at him. Finally he seemed to give up and shoved me into somebody else's arms - arms that gripped me tight. I felt the cold metal of armor press against my arm and I looked up to make out Alistair's features. He looked utterly terrified. I wondered why in the world he had that expression on his face while looking at me, and tried to speak to him, but I'm sure it only came out as gibberish.

He knelt down, supporting my head with one hand, and Wynne hurried over, a mien of equal worry on her face. She summoned a soft blue light to her hands and channeled the energy into me, and with an amazing rush I could _breathe_. My brain also began making sense of the noises happening around me, like Alistair muttering incessantly above me. I think he was trying to cast a spell of his own on me or something of the like. I coughed weakly and lifted a shaky hand to rest on his breastplate, a gesture to tell the silly fool that he could stop. He let out a huge breath and grabbed my hand with force that surprised me.

Unable to speak just yet, I glanced to the left past Wynne just in time to see Zevran take a mighty leap and stick the ogre in the throat. It fell with him still somehow managing to stay on, slashing at its face with a raging fervor. He gave it a couple more stabs even after it was clearly dead before hopping off the giant beast, sheathing his dagger and sword with a smooth motion. He then saw us three staring at him, and he gave a small, self-conscious _ahem_. We looked away.

"_Maker,_ Jeirey," Alistair said in relief, shaking his head. "That was too close. I was almost sure you were... you were gone." He was endeavoring to hide it, but if I wasn't mistaken he was a little choked up.

I blinked at him, touched by his concern but somewhat caught off-guard by it. Clearing my throat, I attempted to sit up. My human friend released my hand from his, but kept his other at my back to help me. "Thanks," was all I managed to croak.

"I think we may want to set up camp for the night," Wynne suggested, looking weary. I wanted to ask if she was all right, but my throat protested painfully when I tried to speak.

"What, right here?" Alistair asked, brow furrowed as he glanced pointedly at the darkspawn corpses surrounding us.

Zevran was kneeling next to Wynne now. "Yes, I think that's a good idea, actually. The stench may keep away werewolves and the like. And we're right next to the river - plenty of water to help treat her." He spoke about me as if I wasn't there, which would have annoyed me under any other circumstances.

Alistair consented with a nod. "I see your point, I suppose." Clearly he wasn't happy about the smell, but it beat sleeping in constant fear that werewolves would come out of nowhere and attack, and he realized it.

Wynne left the boys to set up everything for the night while she helped me get out of my ruined armor. I was in too much pain to be embarrassed about being topless for a short time in front of everyone. There was a nasty, massive bruise on my lower chest that was already an ugly purple and was bleeding in some places. I may have even broken a rib or two. Wynne gave a sympathetic "oh dear" before using some more healing magic and bandaging it up.

After that was taken care of, I slid into some chainmail we fortunately had along with us. Wynne helped me stand up, and I unsteadily made my way to the small, smokeless fire that Alistair and Zevran had started. Thanks to the thickness of the trees, it was already getting dark.

I tentatively took a seat next to Alistair, stealing a shy glance at him before focusing my attention on the fire and the small spit hanging over it. I couldn't stop thinking about his reaction earlier. He had seemed genuinely scared for me - about _losing_ me. It was a... nice feeling to have someone care about me like that, although I was certainly not used to it.

Nobody spoke for some time, the sounds of the softly crackling fire and white noise of the forest filling our ears. It was calming, even knowing that horrors were probably lurking right outside the ring of darkspawn corpses the boys had created.

Zevran suddenly leaned forward and grabbed the makeshift stick of a spit, inspecting the small chunks of meat on it before pulling them off one-by-one and handing them out.

Alistair gave the food a dubious look, and I nudged him. "It isn't poisoned, Alistair," I said, rolling my eyes. "Zevran is one of us. Did you not see him take down that ogre? He saved my life." Alistair looked adequately chastened, and my eyes darted over to the other elf. "Thank you, by the way."

To my mild surprise, Zevran himself looked a little sheepish as well. "It was no problem. And, ah, Alistair, I do not blame you for being cautious. But I have no intention of poisoning you... anytime soon, at least." The modesty didn't last long as he added the last remark, smirking slightly as Alistair responded with an alarmed glance. Wynne and I chuckled, and, with another nudge from me, he loosened up and somewhat nervously joined in.

I shook my head and took a bite of my dinner. It was meat we had received from the Dalish. It tasted salty and a bit dry, and I was having a hard time deciding on exactly what animal it came from. I was still pondering this puzzle when Zevran spoke up again.

"But, in all seriousness, Jeirey."

I glanced up, somewhat startled. If I wasn't mistaken, it was actually the first time the other elf had called me by my name. It was always "my lady" or "my dear" - his idea of being charming. But for some reason, when he used my real name, it sent chills down my spine.

If Zevran observed the effect that had on me, he didn't show it and continued. "That was very close. Unreasonably close. Don't worry m-" - he seemed to check himself - "_us_ like that again."

In the corner of my eye, I saw Wynne turn to the Antivan with a suddenly hawkish gaze. I began to blush slightly, and I felt Alistair tense beside me. One would think Zevran was actually sincerely worried about me. Or maybe even _emotionally invested_ in me.

I tried to shake away the thought. We had only known each other for a week. And within that short time I'd known him, I knew that I was clearly not the type of person he was generally... _interested_ in.

Zevran realized his slip-up and coughed, showing some of the same strange self-consciousness he had exhibited earlier after he'd defeated the ogre. "Um, I mean, we can't have our leader going and getting herself killed, now can we?"

I nodded slowly. "I know. Lesson learned, believe me," I said. "I promise I won't go do anything reckless like that again."

The tension between us lessened considerably as my three teammates accepted my resolve. I almost began to think I had imagined the awkwardness, but then I felt Wynne's eyes staring me down from across the fire. When I met her gaze, she raised an eyebrow at me, the meaning clear. I frowned ever-so-slightly and looked away, quickly finishing my mystery meat before gingerly getting to my feet. Alistair immediately half-stood, eyes wide and arms out ready to support me, and although the gesture was sweet and would have made me feel warm and fuzzy inside at any other time, I waved him away. I needed to be back on my feet as soon as I could. "I'll try to get some sleep now," I announced.

Everyone muttered their good nights to me as I shuffled away and carefully got myself situated in a bedroll a ways away from the fire. I stared up at a small open patch of sky through the trees and tried to think about the stars, or our quest that we would continue tomorrow, or even the ogre and how horrible that experience had been, but of course my mind was stubbornly stuck on Zevran and Alistair and what their various actions towards me that day could have possibly meant.

Needless to say, it was a while before I finally got to sleep.


	3. A Small Break

My small party and I shuffled tiredly into the Gnawed Noble Tavern, a comfy seat our main priority. When the waitress showed us to a table, Wynne and Alistair hesitated as Zevran slid into the far end of one of the booths. Obviously, neither of them really wanted to sit by the assassin. He was still relatively new to our group, and frankly I couldn't blame them for not trusting him despite the fact that he had accompanied us through our adventure in the Brecilian Forest. So with a sigh, I plunked down next to the other elf.

The templar and mage sat across from us, trying to hide their gratitude and replace it with an apologetic look. I wasn't paying much attention, though. We ordered drinks and I sulked over my goblet, a bit ruffled by our latest experiences. Werewolves were not exactly likable creatures. Still, I was happy to help the Dalish clan.

I felt Alistair's gaze on me. I tried to ignore him, stubbornly not wanting to be cheered up. After a few minutes he finally gave up and attempted to make small talk with Wynne and Zevran. A tiny part of me was disappointed.

Suddenly I found myself tapping my foot to a familiar tune, one I was used to hearing around the estate I had served at whenever there were banquets. Someone must have gotten a minstrel in. Feeling slightly better, I started quietly humming along to the music.

"You know this song, Jeirey?" Alistair's attention was back on me. My heart fluttered for no good reason.

"Um, yeah," I replied, looking at the other side of the room instead of my human friend. "They played it at Honnleath sometimes."

There was clanking of his heavy armor, and then Alistair appeared in front of me. Startled, I looked up and met his kind eyes. What color were they, anyway? They always seemed different; green one day, brown the next. Right now they looked almost blue. It was starting to confuse me.

He bowed, and held out his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked in a most chivalrous tone. Glancing up, he smiled crookedly.

I blushed, and my heart was in danger of melting right on the spot. Alistair was too charming for his own good, but I don't believe he knew it.

Feeling extremely self-conscious - there was no way Zevran and Wynne weren't watching - I cleared my throat. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know how to dance..." Being an elven servant, there weren't many chances of learning such luxurious skills.

He tilted his head. "Well then, I suppose you're going to learn today." Grinning, he took my hand and tugged. "Come on!"

Still blushing, I followed him to the open area of the tavern, where a few couples were already there. That made me feel a little better.

"Just follow my lead," he said, keeping one hand wrapped around mine while putting the other on my waist. I tried not to think too much about that.

A glance over at our table revealed Wynne chuckling and smiling knowingly and Zevran smirking as they watched us. It didn't help my red face any. I averted my gaze to the floor and concentrated very hard on Alistair's feet, trying to follow his movements without messing up and stepping on his.

"You're a natural!" he praised me as he twirled me. I had to giggle; this was fun. Soon I didn't have to look downwards at all.

"We must look ridiculous in all this armor," I said, feeling somewhat giddy now. "It doesn't make this any easier, either!"

"Makes you even more commendable to have learned to dance in chainmail," he pointed out. "You can add it to your list of Blight stories when all this is over. Tell it to your grandchildren."

_Do these grandchildren have to be just mine?_ I thought before I could stop myself. I silently told myself to snap out of it. I was beginning to like this human more than I should have been. With the Blight going on, I had no time for such fantasies.

I laughed nonetheless, not bothering to think about the fact that I really only had thirty years to live. I would probably never get to meet my grandchildren, or at least not watch them grow up.

Closing my eyes, I let Alistair and the music carry me away. For the first time in quite a while, I was feeling relaxed. Despite our laughs along the way since I had been reunited with Alistair, I realized this was the first true _fun_ I'd had with him. I wasn't about to waste the moment.


	4. Zevran's Jealousy

Zevran gloomily stared into the fire, absentmindedly tracing circles in the crumbly dirt with his free. The other arm was propped up on his knee, his gloved hand supporting his chin. He hardly noticed how uncomfortably warm he was starting to get, nor did he care about the ache in his back that was beginning to form from sitting in the same position for so long. His feet were asleep as well, but it didn't spur him to move. He was too deep in thought, albeit he was rather unhappy about the subject. He couldn't get his mind off Jeirey.

The other elf was across the camp, on the opposite side of the fire. She was sitting on a log... next to Alistair. Zevran could tell that much from the failed attempts at suppressed laughter coming from that direction. And, right on cue, there was that horrible, overpowering emotion - jealousy. Zevran Arainai was jealous of a human man.

When the two Grey Wardens had decided to spare his life after he attempted to assassinate them, Zevran was still surprised even though he _had_ practically begged for his life. Jeirey and Alistair had shown compassion not many people - including himself - would not have, even if the pair were weary of him for weeks to come. And even though he had meant his vow of loyalty, he had by no means expected to become friends with his savior. Least of all begin to have _feelings_ for her.

The thought always made him cringe. The last time he'd felt emotions like these, it hadn't ended well. But he felt there was no use in denying it. Besides, Jeirey was _different_ than his last... interest. So much different. She was beautiful, of course, with her shining emerald eyes and deep brown hair done in an innocent style of three short ponytails, but no more beautiful than any of the other women in the party they traveled with. But he liked to think she was beautiful in more than one way, more than just looks. She was so fierce - terrifying, even - on the battlefield, but otherwise she was possibly the sweetest girl he knew, giving generous amounts of money to beggars and stopping to help every lost child, every injured animal. He couldn't say he'd ever been attracted to a woman like her before; normally behavior like that didn't affect him; he couldn't care less how other people interacted with each other. Actually, if he was completely honest, he was sort of disgusted with helping the less fortunate. He knew that sounded strange, coming from an elf with the background he had, but it was the truth. Yet whenever Jeirey performed one of her selfless acts, it filled Zevran with the oddest desire to smile. It was unnerving. Even Morrigan, who strongly believed everyone was out for themselves and should mind their own business, was softening up to the leader of their group, he could tell.

Zevran wanted more than anything to march straight up to Jeirey and get this off his chest. And under any other circumstance he would have already, but now he was actually considering what would happen if he did. There were several outcomes he could foresee, some far less likely to happen than others. But the bottom line was that Zevran was almost positive that Jeirey did not return his feelings. He knew she viewed him as a friend - a dear, close friend - but it stopped at that. Maybe if Alistair wasn't in the picture things would be different. But he wasn't, and there was nothing Zevran could do.

It was painfully obvious Jeirey and Alistair had a thing for each other. Alistair was particularly hard not to notice with the adoring glances he cast her way when he thought no one was looking (when, in fact, almost everyone was). Jeirey was a little better at hiding how she stared at him, but not much. They also flirted constantly. The two were head-over-heels for each other, and Zevran had heard Wynne and Leliana whispering about how it was almost too adorable to bear. Even Erro, the dog, seemed delighted. The rest of the party, however, quietly turned their heads to gag... not that they weren't begrudgingly happy for one or both of them.

That didn't include Zevran, of course. He was still trying to decide exactly how he felt about this.

He must have been thinking a bit too hard about it, because he didn't even notice Jeirey's approach until she spoke: "Hey, Zev. You feeling all right? You look a little down."

The Antivan nearly jumped out of his skin. "O-Oh, Jeirey," he greeted her hesitantly, not sure what to say. What kind of assassin was he, letting his own comrades catch him by surprise? Embarrassed at his slip-up and his recent thoughts, he shifted his hand from his chin to his forehead, not looking at her. He managed a smile. "I'm, ah- I'm alright. No need to concern yourself over me."

She frowned. "Of course I need to concern myself over you; you're one of my teammates. Partners. _Friends._ Now, tell me what's on your mind." She took a seat next to him as if to say she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

It was all Zevran could do to not let his smile widen. She was always doing this; no matter who it was, Jeirey was there to help and comfort them in a instant if things went wrong. She had an uncanny ability to sense when someone wasn't feeling their best. Zevran should have expected her to come to him, what with his sulking behavior. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't engaged him sooner.

He cast a discreet glance in her direction to see her twirling a rose between her fingers as she waited patiently for him to answer. Most of her attention was on the flower, however, and she had a sort of dreamy smile on her face. And although it was hard to tell in the dim firelight and her facial tattoos certainly didn't help, he was almost certain that she was blushing.

Zevran dropped his hand and sat up straighter. "What's this?" he evaded her question with one of his own, gesturing to the rose. He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Her eyes widened. "Oh! Um." Hastily, she dropped the flower in her lap and clasped her hands together. "It's nothing." Definitely blushing now.

"Oh, come now," he insisted. "At least tell me who gave it to you." Of course, he knew full well who had given it to her. Even if he hadn't picked up on Jeirey and Alistair's romantic vibes, who else would have? But Zevran found himself loving to talk to her just for the sake of talking, so he made idle chit chat and was perfectly fine with it.

"Alistair did," Jeirey admitted, a shy smile on her face. She didn't meet Zevran's eyes. "But who else would have? Sten?" She laughed. The sound was music to Zevran's ears, and he found himself chuckling along.

"Good point," he said. "So, ah... you like Alistair quite a lot?" The words were out before he was fully aware of it, and he silently cursed himself. Going down this path would only lead to pain for himself.

"Well..." Jeirey grabbed her rose again and drew her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. The bashful smile was back. "Yes, I suppose I do." She hesitated, seeming to consider elaborating, but she decided to hold her tongue.

It just occurred to Zevran that Jeirey didn't consider herself to be in a relationship with Alistair. And if she didn't think so, then neither did Alistair. But they were obviously getting closer to admitting their feelings for each other by the minute. If Zevran told Jeirey how _he_ felt about her, right then and there, there might be a chance...

She cleared her throat. "Don't think I've forgotten my original question, sneaky man. Something was troubling you, I can see. Tell me what's wrong!"

There was a pause before he took a deep breath and started with, "Jeirey, I..." He was about to do it. The unspoken words that would finish the sentence danced on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released. Jeirey herself leaned forward ever-so-slightly, sensing he was about to say something important. "I..."

It never got farther than that. Suddenly Zevran realized he couldn't do it. Not because he was nervous, no. He'd told plenty of women that he was attracted to - _interested in_ - them before. Nothing new as far as that went. And not because he was afraid of rejection, either. It was actually rather the opposite. He could be fairly sure that Jeirey wouldn't - _couldn't_ - simply brush him off if he told her. Her heart was too big. His confession would trouble her a great deal, and even if she didn't truly return his affection, she would feel obligated to. It was the one thing Zevran wasn't particularly fond of when it came to her; she was _too_ kind sometimes. She was too scared to hurt those close to her to consider what she actually wanted.

Besides, what was he thinking? She just told him that she had feelings for Alistair. And even if she hadn't, even if by some chance Jeirey chose Zevran over Alistair, what then? Zevran was never that fond of commitment. Especially after what happened with the last woman he'd had strong emotions for. He never wanted to go through anything like that again. If a similar scenario presented itself with Jeirey... Oh, Maker, no. His last love's terrified, pleading eyes still haunted him in his dreams. If those eyes were ever replaced with Jeirey's, he didn't think he could live with himself.

So Zevran held back the almost overwhelming feelings. For both of their sakes, he told himself. "I just had a bit of a stomachache," he finished lamely. "Must've been something in the food tonight that isn't agreeing with me so much."

Jeirey looked unconvinced and maybe even a little disappointed, but she let the matter go. "I see. Well, it _was_ Alistair who cooked," she said with a wry smile.

"Aha!" Zevran exclaimed with a mock _I-knew-it_ tone. "That explains it." They both laughed again, and he continued, "Tomorrow night, if we go to Denerim, we should stop by the tavern and get a semi-decent meal."

"Only semi-decent?" Jeirey asked, still looking amused.

"Oh, yes. You haven't tasted good food until you've eaten in an Antivan tavern."

"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

"I'll let you keep guessing." Zevran gave her a sly smile. "But seriously. I'll make sure you and Alistair sit together."

She began to blush again. "Oh, stop it."

He raised his eyebrows. "By the Maker, Jeirey. Anyone would think that you both grew up in an abbey, the way you're acting. You're grown adults! Pursue him already, or I'll have to..." His sentence trailed off as he realized he didn't know what he was going to say. The quick-witted Zevran, at a loss for words!

"Or what? You'll have to make a move on me?" she finished for him with a chuckle.

Zevran would have found that amusing under any other circumstances. He tried to laugh, he really did, but the sound stuck in his throat. That seemingly harmless jest had slapped him in the face, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He cleared his throat, wracking his mind desperately for another conversation topic, but it was too late.

Jeirey's eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable, but still did all the same. The silence dragged on for a few more unbearable seconds before she also cleared her throat.

"Well, uh-" they both said at the same time, stopping abruptly as they noticed they were speaking in unison. Jeirey smiled awkwardly and Zevran turned his head away. He cursed himself a hundred times over. She knew now. Even if she clearly had no experience in romantic matters, she wasn't dense.

Zevran felt a hand rest on his upper arm. Though her hand was protected by bulky metal, Jeirey's touch was delicate, soothing even. He could only imagine how soft her bare skin was...

Not allowing that thought to continue, he forced himself to turn his head again and look into her impossibly green eyes.

"Zevran..." she began, chewing her lip uncomfortably and looking pained. He waited expectantly for her to continue, not sure what he wanted to hear now. All he could think about while becoming lost in her eyes was how she was torturing him with her hand on his arm and her face so tauntingly close. She needed to hurry it up before he did something he would regret.

"I hope you feel better," she finally told him. But her eyes said something else very different: _"I'm sorry."_

Before either of them could say (or do) anything else, perhaps for the best, Jeirey stood up and wandered away, twirling the rose in her hand at her side. She didn't go to anyone - not even Alistair - instead stopping at the edge of the camp and simply standing there, looking into the forest, deep in thought.

Zevran watched her with an ache in his chest, knowing he was letting something truly wonderful go.


	5. A Haunted Dream

The dream started out as any other I'd had since I'd become a Grey Warden.

I - or maybe it was not me; I couldn't tell. If it was, then I was a mere presence, nothing with any definite shape or structure. Whatever the case was, it did not change what I could see.

My vision showed me a small cave. Orange light flickered against the crudely chiseled walls, revealing several tall spears reaching out of the stone ground. Blood pooled around the bases of the spears and continued to drip from the unidentifiable, mauled heads that adorned the tips of them. If that wasn't gruesome enough, the smell threatened to knock me over. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

A large column of stone rose from floor to ceiling in the center of the cavern, blocking my view of what I assumed to be the entrance to this little space. It could also be deducted that a fire was behind said column, since the light seemed to be emanating from there.

I heard the darkspawn before I saw them - guttural growls and snarls signaled at least two of them arriving. Slowly a shadow emerged on the wall in the firelight, although the only piece of information that gave me was that it was not an ogre. A part of me felt relieved, even though the other part was sensible enough to remember that this was a dream and that the darkspawn couldn't harm me... as far as I knew.

A dream such as this was somewhat uncommon, as most of them were simply flashes and disconnected scenes of various darkspawn marching or screeching and just being generally terrible. Rarely was I ever fully _aware_ that I was in a dream. I couldn't say I was particularly happy about this, however. The dreams I were aware in usually were the most vivid and all the more frightening.

The darkspawn that the looming shadow belonged to rounded the corner cautiously, its hand on its weapon. It was only a genlock, the breed of monster that was short and stumpy and was the most numerous one could find on the battlefield.

I vaguely wondered why it was so suspicious. As far as I could tell, the place I was positioned was a dead end, and I was the only... thing... there...

The hideous green creature swiveled its beady gaze from one end of the cave to the other before resting squarely on _me_.

But that wasn't possible! I was invisible, I was a floating entity. _I wasn't even there._

Nonetheless, the ghoulish beast let out a bellow, drew its crude, rusty axe, and charged straight for me. Unable to move an inch, I held my breath and braced myself for the worst. Then, right as the darkspawn had nearly reached me, everything dissolved into blackness.

Quite suddenly my consciousness was lurched into an entirely new scene. I had a body now - my own body, specifically - and iwas fighting. Darkspawn surrounded me, glaring menacingly and readying their weapons. Judging from the sounds around me, I was not alone, however. From behind me I heard a shout that I recognized as Alistair's voice, and my spirits lifted. The mere knowledge of his presence was comforting and inspiring.

I whirled with my weapons outstretched, taking down several monsters. I wouldn't say I enjoyed killing, but it was definitely satisfying whenever my blade caught an enemy, as was the solid thud they made when hitting the ground.

I lost myself in the battle, and before long I had forgotten I was in a dream. It felt so real.

Finally I disposed of the last creature with a graceful slash and sheathed my sword and dagger. I glanced around at the bodies and nodded to myself; a job well done. Then I turned around, feeling warm inside as I saw Alistair making his way towards me, that mischievous smile of his I had grown to love so much on his face. My stomach did flip-flops as I wondered what adorable, witty thing he would undoubtedly say to me next would be.

But my butterflies turned into cold, hard rocks of dread as I saw something stir behind him. I yelled for him to look out, but it was too late. I saw his eyes widen in confusion and alarm, and then he fell, a crooked, rusty dagger protruding from his back.

A genlock stood where he had been, mocking me with its jagged, malformed grin. It was covered in blood and its legs wobbled, however, and before it fell it let out several short grunts in what could only be interpreted as a laugh.

_"Alistair!"_ I wailed, stumbling towards his lifeless body. I could feel my world collapsing around me. How could this have happened? It wasn't possible, it shouldn't have happened, no, no, _no_...

My eyes flew open to darkness. My pulse was racing, hands sweaty, mouth dry. I gulped a couple times and let my eyes adjust before unclenching my fingers from their vice grip on the hem of my sleeping sack.

I had seen many a terrible thing in my nightmares since I had become a Grey Warden all those months ago, but nothing compared with the incredible anguish I had just experienced. The fear was still there with every heartbeat, and I had to keep reassuring myself that it had only been a dream, that Alistair was still alive.

Slowly but surely my nerves settled down, but even after that I could tell there would be no more chance of sleep for me that night.

With a soft sigh I sat up and fumbled with my hair until it was back in its usual three-tailed style, then carefully stretched and crawled to the opening of my small tent. My torso was stiff and sore; we had all taken to sleeping in our armor, in part for convenience and partly due to paranoia. The darkspawn or even simple bandits could appear at any time.

The cool night air was refreshing. As I stood up, I took a deep breath and angled my head back to look at the black sky. It was a beautiful sight: no clouds were present to obstruct the myriad of stars.

After my eyes had taken their fill of the dazzling spectacle above, I lowered my gaze and glanced around the camp. The fire was nothing but a smoldering pile of charcoal, and from the looks of it Morrigan's fire in the far corner of the clearing was in the same state. The only other source of light was coming from Shale, whose crystal armor glowed softly in the distance. The cynical golem had no need for sleep, so that made it excellent for sentry duty. All the same, at least one other person was also on watch at all times. that had been my idea - I wouldn't tell anyone, but it was mostly because I didn't want Shale to feel like we were taking too much advantage over it. Golem or not, it didn't change the fact that the stone giant had a consciousness and emotional capacity. Deep down inside Shale was a person, I believed, even if it was a snarky ingrate of one.

In the mean time, I let everyone else think my decision for extra night guards was because I didn't trust Shale. It talked about its love for smashing in peoples' heads often enough to make anything "squishy" nervous.

Seeing Shale made me wonder who else was on guard duty. All was eerily quiet, and everyone else seemed to be asleep in their tents at first glance, but judging from the position of the moon it should have been... Alistair. Of course.

I was still trying to decide if this was a good or bad thing when I spotted him, standing at the main opening to the camp. Almost as soon as my eyes rested on him, he turned around. At first he didn't notice me, but when he did he cocked his head quizzically.

Seeing no way out now, I walked over to him. I wasn't sure if I was ready to share my disturbing dream - and the intense feelings that had accompanied it - with him yet, but I supposed it would be nice to have some company for the time being.

I stopped in front of the human man, having to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. "Hey," I greeted him in a whisper, my breath forming a faint cloud. It was getting a tad bit chilly, I realized, now that the effects of fear and adrenaline were wearing off. I found myself wishing I was in an outfit with pockets for me to stuff my hands into.

"Couldn't sleep?" Alistair asked in an equally hushed voice. In the dark I could make out the outline of a sympathetic smile on his handsome face. "I was having some nightmares earlier myself. They were sort of strange, though. Hurlocks kept stealing my cheese. Your's anything like that?"

I couldn't help but laugh, and that warm feeling returned to me again as I saw his grin widen. "Um, kind of, I guess," I admitted. "I just needed some fresh air."

"Well then, may I accompany you this fine night, my lady?" He offered his arm to me.

Blushing, I looped my own arm around his. "Don't mind if you do," I replied, unable to keep a straight face. We began walking.

Alistair could be quite corny, but it was when he did things like this that made my smiles uncontrollable and heart flutter. I loved how he could do that; how he could still laugh and find happiness despite everything that was happening.

Those thoughts led my mind to thinking about the gift he had given me only a couple of weeks ago: a beautiful, blood-red rose. He said he had picked it in Lothering - _Lothering!_Back when our journey had just begun - because he had been amazed that such beauty could exist amongst such darkness and ugliness. I suspected he had gotten Wynne to use some magic on it, because it was still as fresh as if he had just picked it. And then he had explained how it was for me, because he thought the same thing when he looked at me.

_Maker_, how that had made my heart pound! How it _still_ made my heart pound!

"I had a dream about you," I blurted without thinking.

Alistair slowed, peering from the side at me with raised eyebrows, an invitation to proceed.

Sighing, I released his arm and turned to face him once again. "It started out as a normal nightmare. You know, a Grey Warden one. But then... one of them _saw_ me. And charged at me. It was terrifying."

My human friend nodded, looking thoughtful. "Duncan mentioned once that darkspawn can sense us like we can them, as a consequence of the taint. But I'm not sure if that went for dreams as well... Hm. Do go on."

I hugged myself, half because I was genuinely cold now and half because I felt vulnerable. "Well, before it reached me, the dream switched to me and you, fighting on a roadside... We won, but when I turned around, you were... stabbed... by a surviving darkspawn. And... you died." I internally cursed myself as I felt a lump form in my throat. Here I was, last of the Grey Wardens, Ferelden's last hope, and I was getting snivelly over some stupid dream I'd had.

Alistair was silent, because there was really nothing he could say. We both knew fully well that he, or either one of us, for that matter, could die any time. There was a significant chance of it every time we engaged in battle. Most of the time this ugly little fact of life was tucked conveniently in the very deep recesses of my mind, but the dream had rather abruptly brought it to attention.

"It's silly, isn't it?" I continued, shrugging miserably and averting my gaze to the ground. "I shouldn't let it get to me; it was only a dream after all, but... I guess I just seriously don't want you to die," I finished lamely. Better, more meaningful words danced on the tip of my tongue - _I really like you a lot. I don't know what I'd do without you. I might even be in love with you._ - but I didn't have the guts to articulate them.

"No no, not at all," Alistair assured me. "I really don't want you to die, either." He cleared his throat, sensing the awkwardness of his words. "W-What I mean is, Jeirey, I..."

I lifted my gaze from the ground at the sound of my name. Alistair looked nervous, if I wasn't mistaken, but he mustered his courage and continued. My heart began beating faster, and I hardly dared to imagine what he was going to say. "It might... sound a little strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long..." He fidgeted and his eyes darted from side to side, and even in the dark it was obvious he was blushing. It was rather adorable, I had to say.

He suddenly seemed to think of something. "Well, I know we've technically known each other since we were small, since there was that one time at Redcliffe, but we haven't _known_ each other... Ugh." His words failed him and I had to giggle a tiny bit.

"Let me- let me start over." He sighed. "The thing is, I've come to... care for you. A great deal. Maybe it's because we've been through so much together, I don't know... Maybe I'm fooling myself." His eyes suddenly found mine, and I couldn't look away. "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever... feel the same way about me?"

My stomach was so full of butterflies I thought I might burst. Speechless for a few seconds, I could only nod until I eventually managed, "Yes. I think... I already do."

His relief was palpable. With an amazed huff of a breath, he smiled and reached forward with a hand to cup my face. My brain had just enough time to calculate exactly what he was doing before his lips were on mine and his other hand at my back.

On instinct, my arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss was warm and tender and utterly _right._ I wanted to melt into his arms, to stay like this for an eternity. And we probably would have remained like that for quite some time had we not been interrupted:

"Uh! Dis_gusting!_"

Alistair and I hastily broke apart, startled, to see Shale standing a few yards away. It wore an expression of pure revulsion on its face. "Um," was all I could think to say.

Then, much to my horror, I heard rustling from the tents. Shale had made no effort to lower its voice.

"Is everything alright, Shale?" Wynne asked somewhat groggily, emerging from her tent. A sleepy Leliana appeared soon after, then Zevran, who rubbed his eyes. Luckily it seemed the commotion was either not interesting enough for or simply hadn't woken up Sten.

"Hardly," the golem answered the old mage. "Such displays of affection between soft creatures are most grotesque. The Wardens were practically _eating _one another."

I nearly blushed to the tips of my ears. "We were not-!"

My companions seemed bewildered by Shale's description at first, then noticed Alistair, whose hands were still at my waist. Quick as lightning, he removed them and stuck them behind his back, but it was too late.

Leliana gasped in sudden comprehension. "Oh my goodness, did you two finally...? You _did_, didn't you? Just look at your surprised faces... How cute!"

Wynne had clasped a hand over her mouth, chuckling silently. Zevran was out of my line of vision to the right, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him for some reason. "Whisking away our fair Jeirey into the night to steal a kiss? How scandalous! What a scoundrel you are, Alistair," I heard him say lightheartedly, but there was an edge to his voice that I was sure only I could distinguish.

All the same, I frowned at them fiercely. My mind had gone blank from mortification - I couldn't think of any decent comebacks to save my life.

Unexpectedly, it was Alistair who thought of something. "Ah, yes, you caught us, Maker forbid. Now if you'll excuse us, we're going to get back that moment you so thoughtfully ruined." With that he dipped me down and silenced my yelp of surprise with another kiss. I closed my eyes and managed to giggle despite having my mouth pressed to his. _I could get used to this,_ I thought.

"Ugh! I think I'm going to be sick," Shale complained. Shortly thereafter I heard the sound of the golem stomping away.

"I think I might have to agree with our golem friend here," Zevran said, rather out of character. "Have fun, lovebirds."

Leliana didn't leave. She was practically squealing, babbling about how she knew Alistair and I would end up together eventually and how adorable we were together. It was nice to have someone support us, but to be honest it was a little odd how... enthusiastic she was about it.

Finally Wynne decided she'd had enough. "Okay, you two, I think you've made your point. Now that almost everyone is up, why don't you go make something to eat?"

Alistair pulled away and returned me to an upright position, laughing unsteadily. I patted my hair down self-consciously, my eyes darting everywhere but at the two women in front of me. At last I heard Wynne sigh, and she left. I could imagine the knowing, fond look on her face.

A hand grabbed mine and tugged. Alistair led me to the fire pit, wordlessly inviting me to help him prepare the morning's meal. It wasn't even light out yet, but I supposed making breakfast early wouldn't hurt. Kneeling down, I set to starting the fire up. My mind was in a daze, still taking in everything that had taken place that night. _He kissed me. Twice. Alistair _kissed_ me!_

Sparks had just begun to fly from the flint I held when I noticed Leliana hovering nearby, watching me with a sort of hopeful, timid expression. She wanted to gossip about my blossoming romance, undoubtedly.

_We'll talk later,_ I mouthed a promise to her as Alistair appeared at my side and supplied the pit with firewood. The redhead seemed to realize now was not the best time, smiling sheepishly and nodding before retreating somewhere else.

Alistair and I made the food in companionable silence. I'm sure his brain was going as crazy as mine was, wondering what this all meant, how it would impact our quest, how it would shape our futures.

When the ingredients were in the pot and over the fire, Alistair sat down in front of it. I joined him, leaning against his shoulder. After a few moments, the plating of his heavy armor became ungainly pillow material and I slid down until my head rested in his lap.

He smiled down at me, brushing a lock of my brown hair out of my face. I closed my eyes and let the butterflies overwhelm my stomach. It seemed they still plagued me even after our relationship had been cemented, but the fact didn't bother me as much as I would have expected.

"Maker's breath, but you're beautiful," I heard Alistair breathe, and I smiled. "I am a lucky man."

"You're a strange man, that's what you are," I muttered in reply. "I'm no more beautiful than your average abomination."

"Don't you dare say that," he scolded me without hesitation. "You are one of the prettiest women I've ever met."

I shook my head half-heartedly, but I didn't hear his response as I drifted off to sleep. For the first time in a long while, I had no nightmares.


	6. The Rescue

Jeirey was gone. She was gone and it was his fault.

Wynne kept telling him that it would be okay, that Jeirey was a Grey Warden and Alistair was with her and that they could take care of themselves. She also said it wasn't his fault even though he'd never said the words aloud. The old mage could be annoying sometimes, he'd decided, with her all-knowing attitude and sympathetic gaze. The worst part was that most of the time her assumptions were correct.

Zevran could have drowned in his guilt if he hadn't already been used to it; the heavy waves of ugly, draining emotion that came and went as they pleased with his moods, sometimes catching him off-guard so it was like he'd stepped in a deep mud puddle, brown muck sucking his feet down until he couldn't take another step. The memories of Rinna - her smile, her laugh, her graceful moves on the battlefield, the tears streaming down her beautiful face as she'd realized what he had been about to do - were so clear in his mind even though it had been over a year since it happened. Since Rinna had died, torn from this world from an ally's blade and by Zevran's permission.

Then he had met Jeirey, who had spared him even though deep inside he had wished to die, and before long whenever he was around her the ever-present heartache lessened and he was reminded of why he enjoyed life. Now it was _her_ smile, _her _laugh that kept him going. And even though she was with another man, Zevran found himself okay with that, as long as she was happy. Oh, he certainly still dreamed of what it would be like if Jeirey was his, if Alistair had never been in the picture. But by now he was resigned to the fact that he would never be with the wondrous Grey Warden he had fallen in love with.

Even so, he had made a personal vow to protect Jeirey at all costs. A vow that was as good as broken, now.

It all started when Jeirey received an unexpected visitor while they were staying at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. The nobleman had insisted the entire ragtag group be his guests until the Landsmeet commenced, and though Jeirey had been humble and refused at first, no further protest was heard after he insisted. After a week of well-earned relaxation and appreciation of the luxuries the mansion had to offer, an elven woman by the name of Erlina showed up, begging Jeirey and Alistair to save Queen Anora, whom she claimed was being held hostage by Arl Howe in his estate. Zevran was suspicious from the start, but Jeirey was convinced that if they had Anora on their side, the Landsmeet was as good as won. Begrudgingly, Zevran relented and accompanied her and Alistair and Wynne to the Arl of Denerim's castle of a house, where they disguised themselves and infiltrated as guards. Their caution was for naught, however, as they ended up having to fight their way to and kill Arl Howe himself in order to break the magical barrier that Erlina had so conveniently forgotten was placed on the door to Anora's room.

Zevran had been about to let his suspicions go, as they retrieved a seemingly genuinely relieved Anora, when they entered the main hall and were confronted by Loghain's men. To Zevran's dismay, Jeirey opted to surrender. So he had had to stand by and watch helplessly as Alistair and his beloved were dragged away to Maker knew where. It was the look in Jeirey's eyes as she caught his gaze that really got Zevran, in the end. She was probably going to die, and she knew it. She was scared.

Once what was left of them returned to Arl Eamon's estate and Wynne frantically relayed what had happened, Anora admitted that Loghain's soldiers had probably taken the Wardens to Fort Drakon, military stronghold and maximum security prison, also renowned for its torture chambers.

Zevran's fear had turned to fury at that point. There was many a distasteful name he was tempted to call Anora, being so nonchalant about the entire situation, but he held his tongue, knowing nobody would forgive him if he turned the queen of Ferelden against their cause. Still, he seethed the entire duration of planning Jeirey and Alistair's rescue.

"Is there something you wish of me?" the queen asked brusquely after the discussion had been settled, undoubtedly noticing the unfriendly looks Zevran was giving her.

"Oh, I was simply marveling at the _interesting_ coincidences that occurred at the castle," he replied, somewhat failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Remarkable, really, how quickly those men appeared."

The blonde woman stared at him, blue eyes cold and unblinking. "The Wardens killed one of the most prominent men in Ferelden. Is it really such a wonder Ser Cauthrien came? I can understand that you are concerned for their safety; they are your friends, yes? But keep in mind that they are also Grey Wardens. Surely you've faced considerable obstacles on your previous journeys. I am sure they can handle themselves, especially Jeirey. She seems like a capable woman." Had it not been for her expression, Zevran would have been temped to think that she was trying to make him feel better. He wasn't sure what she _was_ trying to do, to be honest. Whatever it was, though, it was not helping.

"Listen, you snake," Zevran hissed menacingly, getting right up in her face. "I've dealt with your type before, enough to know that you're never good news. If things hadn't gone your way back there, you would have turned on us without a second thought."

Anora was silent, meeting his hateful glare with a stoic expression, giving away nothing.

"Now I'm going to go fetch them from where _you_ got them imprisoned, but if anything has happened to Jeirey- if she's _dead_-" His voice faltered for a moment, and when he spoke again it was low. "There is no power in Thedas that will stop me from cutting you down where you stand."

The queen's brows drew together as she processed this information, and after a moment her lips crept into an unfriendly smile. "You're in love with the Grey Warden?" she asked, though it needed no answer as Zevran flinched ever-so-slightly. Such an accusation had never been said to his face before, true or not. "How _fascinating_. What a place to lay your affections, too. You should know better, assassin."

"I am aware my heart has betrayed my... nature," Zevran replied coolly, forcing himself to continue meeting her gaze steadily. "However, it does not change the fact that I meant every word I have just uttered. You, my dear queen, would do well to remember that."

Anora searched his face critically, a lion calculating when and where to pounce. "Believe me, I will not be without remorse if something unfortunate befalls the Wardens. They are our only hope of defeating the Blight. But you would kill the last true heir to the throne, securing my inept father's position as king and practically handing victory to the darkspawn, over the death of a woman?"

"I've done worse things," Zevran shrugged with an impish grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some friends to rescue." He gave her a mocking bow and left, his fake smile melting into a grim expression of cold, hard determination.

***

The next morning was when they put their plan into action. Zevran was going, of course - he'd have it no other way. Wynne had wanted to come as well, but had been injured significantly during the previous day's escapades, and, at Leliana's insistence, stayed behind. They'd all agreed upon the fact that a mage would be useful (besides Sten, at any rate), so it was Morrigan who ended up accompanying Zevran.

"Ugh," Morrigan complained, tugging at the tight noble's dress she donned with a sharp frown. "How you people go about in such restricting clothing I fear I will never understand."

"Oh, trust me, if we had it my way, everyone would have your delightful taste in fashion," Zevran said lightheartedly, covering up how tense and nervous he actually felt. He was more comfortable than Morrigan, outfitted in simple commoner's clothing. Still, he'd rather be in the comforting familiarity of snugly-fitting leather armor.

They stood at the entrance to Fort Drakon, dwarfed by the giant doors standing between them and their friends. "You ready?" the elf inquired.

"Yes, let us get this over with quickly. Every moment spent dawdling is a moment Jeirey and Alistair could be sent for execution."

_Reminder not necessary,_ Zevran thought to himself, and with a grunt pushed open the heavy doors. They walked into the entrance hall, trying to look like they knew what they were doing.

The guards at the doors on the opposite wall looked bored. "State your business," one of them said with a sigh once the pair drew close enough.

Zevran cleared his throat, then announced rather loudly, "_This_ is my fair Lady Rosenna, come all the way from Amaranthine to visit her dear and noble husband!" He bowed and gestured to her with a flourish, and Morrigan did her best to draw herself up and look prim and arrogant (which didn't take much effort, Zevran noted).

The two soldiers eyed them dubiously. "You couldn't 'ave just sent 'im a letter?"

Zevran made a noise and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"M-M'lady," the man hastily added.

"Oh, but she has not seen him in over a month!" Zevran wailed, putting all he had into the act. It was a little over the top, but that was what he was going for. Behind him, Morrigan sniffed and wiped away a nonexistent tear from her cheek. "Of course they send letters to each other - every day, in fact. But ink and parchment alone cannot fully asseverate their wild, passionate feelings for each other! Just one day, that is all my lady asks, one day to be with her husband and to let their love reach full bloom once more!"

The men before them just stared at them strangely. Zevran glanced over to meet Morrigan's gaze, and they shared a terrible moment of doubt. What if this didn't work?

_Think, you fool!_ Zevran yelled at himself in his mind. _Jeirey's life is at stake!_

Finally, he got an idea. With an exaggerated sigh, he stepped closer to the guards, glancing around as if to make sure nobody heard. "Very well, if you _must_ know, Lady Rosenna is here because she has some... big news for her husband. The kind she'd like to tell him herself, in person, yes? She wished it to be a special surprise."

One of the guards let out an "ohhh" in sudden understanding while the other rolled his eyes. "Maker's breath. All right, all right, if it'll keep the woman from crying, go on ahead. Just don't draw attention to yourselves, and don't tell anyone it was me who let you in!"

"Ah, of course. Thank you, good sers! Lady Rosenna will keep you in her thoughts. Expect to hear the news from her husband very soon!" Zevran stooped down again, then beckoned Morrigan over as the doors were opened.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Zevran let out a puff of breath. "Phew. I'm actually rather surprised that worked. Or at least that they never asked who exactly your 'husband' was."

"What did you tell them that convinced them to let us through?" Morrigan asked, then quickly added, "I am simply curious."

"I said you had some important news to tell your husband."

"Important..." Morrigan pondered this for a moment before bristling. "I do not look pregnant!"

"I never said you did, my dear," Zevran replied flippantly, and couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Either way, it worked, didn't it? Let us be off."

He opened the next set of doors to reveal a massive hallway, littered with small clumps of guards. Zevran took note of the ballistae sitting upon various platforms on the outskirts of the room. If things got ugly, those would be useful. He gestured at them to Morrigan subtly, and she paused in her brooding long enough to acknowledge him.

They walked as fast as they could without drawing attention to themselves, aiming for the opposite side of the hall where a smaller door was located. A young, rather homely woman stood vigilant in front of it.

"I've got this," Zevran muttered to Morrigan, marching straight up to the guard. He looked her up and down, then shook his head and tsked-tsked. She only enough time to look confused before he spoke: "This is a crime, surely!"

"Wh-What?" The blonde woman blinked, too taken aback to remember to even question the strangers' presence.

This would be too easy for Zevran. "Such youth and beauty, wasted away. You are truly noble to have sacrificed so much in the name of protecting your country."

She frowned, looking confused. "I don't-"

"No, no, I understand!" he interrupted melodramatically. "You give up the pleasures of life so others may enjoy them. Your resolve is most admirable."

"I... I hadn't thought of it like that..."

"It is only such a shame that you must waste away the prime years of your life standing in front of a... a door!"

Her brow furrowed. "You know what, you're right! Three Satinalias in a row they've put me on barracks duty. Three! I'm going to go live my life before it's too late. Let somebody else guard this stupid door!" And with that, she left. As she walked past Zevran, she halted to add, "Thank you, ser! You have opened my eyes to what's really important."

"Any time, my lady," Zevran said with a bemused smile. He had known she would take the bait, but honestly he hadn't expected her to take it so quickly and willingly.

"Sergeant? Where are you going?" The other soldiers in the hall were baffled, but they followed the woman. Zevran caught Morrigan shaking her head in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. As soon as the last man cleared out, they swiftly entered the room only to be greeted with another door.

"Well, this was fun, but it seems our charm and subterfuge will work no longer past this door. These guards will know we have no business here," Zevran said with a sigh.

"Good. It was painful watching those ignorant fools lap up your obvious lies." The witch grabbed her staff, a determined expression forming on her attractive face. "Let us show these imbeciles that they should think twice before interfering with my friends."

Zevran paused in opening the door. "Did you just... call Alistair your friend?"

Morrigan stiffened. "I meant Jeirey and Jeirey alone."

The blonde elf had to grin, but he didn't press the subject, preferring not to have an angry shapeshifting mage on his hands.

The door opened and they were immediately confronted by a small group of soldiers. It only took them a moment to notice the elf and human woman did not belong, and with shouts of alarm they simultaneously drew their swords.

Zevran procured his dagger from his clothes and gracefully dispatched two of the men within seconds. Morrigan blasted the other two with a beam of electricity and they fell screaming. Without another word the odd pair were on their way, all business.

At first Zevran was worried they would become lost within all the corridors of the fort, but upon entering one room and eliminating the resident guards they found a map. After that it was simple.

As they drew nearer to the jail room, Zevran began to be able to make out screams in the distance. His throat became tighter and tighter as the knowledge that any one of those agonized voices could be Jeirey's surfaced in his mind and refused to be pushed back._Please, just tell me she's okay,_ he pleaded silently to no one in particular. He honestly didn't know what he would do if something happened to Jeirey. The mere notion was crippling.

But he couldn't focus on those thoughts. There were enemies to be slain. He came out of his deep thinking to find himself in what appeared to be the kennels, mechanically delivering the final blow on a man only armed with his fists. Zevran would have almost felt pity for the man were it not for the ferocious mabari hounds fighting alongside him.

"Zevran, a little help here!" Zevran spun around to see Morrigan barely fending off one of the beasts. It lunged at her and she held her staff in front of her in desperation. The dog's vicious fangs sank deep into the wood, and its head began shaking to and fro violently.

Zevran ran up beside the hound and stuck it in the neck. With a terrible yelp it let go of Morrigan's staff, fell, spasmed, and died. He grimaced; he'd never liked killing animals. Especially after becoming acquainted with Erro, Jeirey's own mabari. The brown dog was a lovable clown, and Zevran had grown rather fond of it despite its atrocious hygiene. He would never admit it to anyone, however.

"They should be in this next room," Morrigan announced.

"Excellent. I am growing rather tired of this place," Zevran said and eagerly advanced towards the door. But before they reached it, two armed men burst in, shouting.

They were no more difficult to defeat than any other soldiers Zevran and Morrigan had faced. When the men lay dead, Zevran stopped to loot the more heavily armed one. Morrigan gave him a quizzical look and was about to remind him of how little time they had to lose when he explained: "I may be mistaken, but I believe this man is the jailor, and... A-ha!" Triumphantly, he held up a heavy bronze key. "The key to their cell might be useful."

They proceeded to the open doorway cautiously and were still scanning their surroundings for any additional enemies when a meek voice called out; "Zevran?"

"Jeirey," he breathed, all thoughts of ambush vanishing as he rushed into the room. Morrigan let out an irritated protest at his carelessness, but luckily it became apparent that there were no hidden foes after all and she followed him.

The cell containing the two Wardens was on the righthand side of the chamber. Jeirey peered through the bars, and her hopeful expression quickly changed to a wild grin as she spotted her friends. "You came! I told you they would, Alistair."

"About bloody time," the human man could be heard near the back of the cage. "I'm starving. And cold."

Zevran unlocked the fortified door to the cell and it swung open. Jeirey and Alistair were in their smallclothes, but that didn't stop the brown-haired elf from practically leaping upon Zevran and gripping him tight.

He tried to ignore how tortuous this action was to the part of him that still wanted her to be his, and instead laughed and embraced her in return. "It is good to see you in one piece. They didn't harm you, did they? You weren't...?"

She shook her head, cheek rubbing against his shoulder. "No, I'm fine. They knocked me out on the way there so I have a bit of a bruise on my head, but otherwise nothing."

Zevran let out a breath of relief. "Good." He pressed his nose into her hair, probably the closest to a kiss he would ever achieve. She smelled of blood and sweat, but underneath the rankness was the unmistakable scent of _her_. He had always found it hard to describe exactly what Jeirey's natural odor was, but it was slightly sweet and reminded him of springtime in Antiva, odd as it sounded given the fact that she had never set foot in his country before.

The moment was short-lived as he noticed Alistair eyeing him, however, so he reluctantly let her go. No doubt guessing what Alistair was thinking, Jeirey went back to his side and held his hand, smiling at him reassuringly and momentarily distracting him from Zevran.

"Well, that was awkward for everyone," Morrigan stated bluntly, coming up from behind Zevran. "Put some clothes on, you two. You see each other like this often enough, surely." She tossed them their armor and weapons, which had been in a chest at the entrance to the room. Both of them blushed profusely as they climbed into their metal suits. Zevran and Morrigan rolled their eyes, finding the couple's embarrassment at such a well-known truth ridiculous.

As they made a dash back through the halls of the fortress and towards freedom, Zevran found himself oddly cheerful. Even as they encountered more guards and fought, a small smile decorated his face. Jeirey was safe and unharmed. It looked like he wouldn't have to kill Anora, after all. Almost a shame, really.


	7. The Final Battle

_"Yaaah!"_ I yelled, bringing my trusty longsword down on my enemy. One more darkspawn down.

After I wrenched my enchanted blade from the dead hurlock's shoulder, I glanced around to see how the rest of my party was doing. Alistair was at my side, a look of fury on his face as he bashed another monster with his already-bloody shield. On my other side was Zevran, just finishing lopping a genlock's head off with his saw blade. Behind me was Wynne, sending out a wave of healing magic. I felt immediately refreshed, even though the adrenaline pumping through my veins was keeping me on my toes.

And in front of us was the Archdemon.

The ugly dragon spit out a stream of vile purple flames, incinerating some of the Dalish warriors fighting for us. Then it beat its powerful wings and retreated to the other side of the tower, releasing a deafening roar. Everyone, even the darkspawn, stumbled from the force it took to lift itself off the ground.

I stared at the terrifying beast, panting. We had been playing this game of tag for more than two hours now. It had to be close to dying.

Signaling my team to follow, I took off running towards the ballista aiming at the Archdemon. I slashed at darkspawn as I went, though some of them fell right before I could reach them. I silently thanked the Dalish every time one of them perished.

When we reached the ballista, I started furiously working it, shooting flaming projectiles at the Archdemon. Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran held off the swarming darkspawn around me as I pounded their leader.

Suddenly my heart started beating faster, if that was even possible. I squinted across the terrace at the mighty dragon. It was faltering, its spirit flames growing weaker, its slashes more half-hearted.

_Now._

Without warning, I charged. My small longsword wouldn't be enough, so I dropped it, grabbing a greatsword sticking out of a Dalish elf. I barely had enough time to think _"sorry"_ as I sprinted as fast as I could towards the great Archdemon.

Just as it noticed I was coming towards it, I screeched a warcry and held the greatsword up over my head, jabbing it into the chin of the dragon. I kept running, using all my strength to drag the sword down its throat until I reached its chest. The Archdemon screamed - a terrible, bloodcurdling sound - and fell. I rolled out of the way at the last minute to avoid being crushed.

I didn't waste any time. Running up to its front again, I shouted again and drove the sword into the darkspawn leader's head.

Light burst up from the dead beast, created a beacon shooting so high into the sky you couldn't see it anymore. The enormous power of the Archdemon's spirit left me reeling, but I held onto the sword, trying to keep my balance. I shut my eyes tight at the blinding light.

Watching me was my team. Alistair and Zevran exchanged truly terrified glances, worried that this was the end for me. Wynne covered her mouth and stared.

The power blast seemed to last forever, then without any warning, it was over. I dropped to my knees, feeling numb. I stared blankly at the sky in a daze. Alistair dashed over to my side and held me.

Then the Archdemon exploded. Alistair and I flew backwards, and my blurred vision went black.


	8. Reunion

"My lady, a wagon has approached the Keep."

I snapped my attention to the soldier timidly peeking into my bedchamber, instantly alert.

"I-I hope this isn't a bad time," the young man stammered, eyes wide as he struggled to maintain my gaze. "The captain said you had ordered immediate notification if any-"

"No, no, you're perfectly fine," I assured him with an amused half-smile. I didn't think I'd ever get used to people addressing me so formally - I was a lowly elf who spent half her life as a servant and the other living in poverty in the Alienage. But now I was also the Hero of Ferelden, revered across the land for defeating the Archdemon and saving the world. Humans claimed they had no problems with a female elf running an entire arling, but I could see the discomfort in their eyes; they could hardly believe they were showing the same, if not more, respect to an elf as they would a human, and to be quite honest I was having trouble fully grasping the idea as well. But I tried my best to rule these people even if it was not my forte, exactly. Each time the nobles of the Arling of Amaranthine gathered before me, expecting so much, I felt like puking. Every chance I got to escape the cold, sprawling fortress was a blessing from the Maker himself, and countless times I caught myself desperately wishing that Alistair was here. He'd know how to handle these unpleasant nobles.

But today my aching heart could be satisfied, if the carriage the knight had just told me about was what I thought it was.

"Thank you, ser, you are dismissed." As soon as he left, I stood up and paced about the room, heart beginning to race. I tugged at the frilly sleeves of my dress, hating how tight the purple fabric was and wishing Leliana had been there to find me a proper gown. The long mirror propped up beside the finely carved vanity showed me a sight I was unused to seeing - not a single strand of my dark hair out of place, not a smudge of dirt to be found anywhere on me. It had been over a year since the Blight and yet my subconscious still believed me to be on the road, poised to fend off darkspawn or bandits at any given moment. The entire fiasco with the Mother and the Architect hadn't helped to soothe my nerves any, either.

I shuddered. No, I wasn't going to think about that anymore. It was done and over with. I had saved the world once again, only it wasn't as publicized.

My sight turned to the bed, a giant thing with dozens of plush pillows and down blankets that I'd had to sleep in alone for several months. With any luck tonight would be the end of that.

I patted and smoothed the covers, then decided I had waited long enough. Nervously I drew myself up and left the room, heading downstairs. Everyone I passed hastily threw a "good day, m'lady" my way, and I did my best to acknowledge them.

Right outside the throne room, my misfit group of Grey Wardens, specially hand-picked by me, awaited me. Sigrun, cute little dwarf she was, had the biggest smile on her face, and I had to grin in return, knowing the news had to be good.

I grabbed her hands in mine. "Is it them?"

She nodded, black hair bouncing slightly. We wore the same hairstyle, a contributing factor to the blooming of our now strong friendship. "I'm so excited to meet them. You've talked so much, I've gotta see if they live up to your description."

"Yes, Alistair sounds like quite a dreamboat," Anders spoke up, a lazy grin on his face. I laughed and shoved at his chest playfully with my hand, and he pretended to look utterly offended.

I straightened myself up again, trying to regain my composure. "Does this look like it'll impress the nobles out there?" I asked.

Everyone murmured their consent and I had to smile before opening the door and entering the sprawling entrance hall. At once I felt the intense stares of many high-class men and women, daring me to mess up, to take one wrong step and fall on my face.

A guard at the main door cleared his throat. "Now announcing Arlessa and Warden-Commander Jeirey's" - a shudder went up my spine at the sound of the mouthful of a title - "husband, Ser Alistair, and the heir, young Lady Wynne."

I wanted to snort at the ridiculousness of the announcement, but my brain was rampant with anxiety. What if Alistair looked different? Had he changed at all while he was away? And how much had my child grown? The last I had seen her, Wynne was only just over a month old. In his letters, Alistair had kept me posted with her progress, but it hurt to not be there at her side as she grew.

The doors finally opened, and I swore I felt my heart try to leap out of my chest. There he was, my Alistair, striding in with his signature smile and holding a bundle in his arms. The handsome man didn't even pause to greet anyone, just made a beeline straight for me and I him. When we met each other halfway in front of the giant brazier, I was speechless, cupping my hand around his cheek and then lifting the cloth of his bundle to see the beautiful face of my baby girl.

It was when she smiled that I completely forgot the protocols of the court and burst into tears.

Alistair, looking a bit teary-eyed himself, pulled me close with his free arm and buried his face in my hair. "Maker's breath, I missed you," he mumbled, and all I could do was sob in agreement.

Meanwhile, Seneschal Varel sensed now was not a good time for me to present myself in front of critical politicians and rounded up the disdainful nobles and cleared them out, making room for the Wardens to enter the room. The original plan had been to introduce my husband and heir to the nobles, then leave room for an emotional reunion afterwards, but it seemed my heart had other ideas. Oh well. I found myself not caring - let them tut about how unprofessional I was. I'd already thwarted one coup attempt, and I was confident I could take on another.

I took a few deep breaths and composed myself, wiping my face and hoping my makeup hadn't smeared too badly. Wynne looked up at me with wide green eyes, and I had to marvel how she kept so calm. "Can I... can I take her?" I asked shakily, sniffing and chuckling.

"Oh, of course!" Gingerly my husband handed me the baby. She had grown remarkably in the months I was absent, and my heart ached knowing I had missed out on so many potential fond memories. But a Grey Warden had to do what a Grey Warden had to do. There was no use moping about it.

The tiny thing grasped the cloth of my dress with a surprisingly firm grip. I kissed her forehead and clutched her tight to me as I led Alistair over to the group of recruits. "I know I told you about them all in my letters, but here are the newest members of the Grey Wardens!" I told him rather proudly.

Oghren was the first to speak. "Alistair! Good to see ya, boy!" he bellowed, barely managing to stretch himself up to clap Alistair on the back.

"Good to see you... too, Oghren," the blond man said, trying not to inhale any of the dwarf's putrid breath. Even though he had actually stayed relatively sober for the occassion, Oghren's hygiene seemed barely affected. Alistair's obvious uncomfortableness only made Oghren laugh heartily.

When he finally got away from our old friend, I began introducing Alistair to the rest of the Wardens. He shook hands with each of them except Velanna, who huffed and only said "Jeirey speaks very highly of you."

Alistair withdrew his outstretched hand, instead rubbing the back of his neck with it. "I would hope so, she is my wife after all." A nervous chuckle, then under his breath directed at me: "Remind you of anyone?"

The Dalish elf seemed to relax slightly, sighing. "I'm sorry, it's just not... orthodox, in my opinion, for elves and humans to, ah, _mingle_. But I can see that you two care deeply for each other."

I blinked in surprise - the fiery elf usually wasn't one to compromise her beliefs so easily. When I had first mentioned the fact that my lover was human, Velanna was appalled and went on quite the tirade about how terrible humans were and that our species interbreeding with them was a path straight to extinction. I calmly endured the rant and simply stated that I loved Alistair and there was nothing that could change that. Needless to say, Velanna and I were a little cold towards one another afterwards. Soon we buried the dispute in the back of our minds, but her frown was fierce whenever I gushed about my husband and daughter to everyone else, and the issue hadn't been addresses again until now. We also weren't on the best of terms thanks to our clashing opinions over how I handled the Architect. Maybe she said what she just had for the sake of diplomacy, but either way I was grateful.

"Let's see the kid, now!" Oghren demanded.

Laughing, I drew back the cloth from Wynne's head, smoothing back her halo of soft blonde hair as I did so. It was getting long at a remarkable rate. "Everyone, this is Wynne. Say hi, sweetie," I added, waving one of the baby's tiny hands for her.

The group of Wardens all stared curiously at the child, and I realized all of them but Oghren probably had little, if any, experience with babies. Ironic. Wynne returned their gazes with her own, unblinking.

"So... this is a human child," Justice murmured quizzically. "Interesting. It looks so fragile."

"Babies are relatively fragile," I told the spirit, bouncing Wynne gently. She let out a happy squeal, and I had to grin. Luckily Justice's ghastly face didn't appear to disturb her.

"Can it move on its own?" he asked, brow furrowed. "Does it talk? How is it possible to eventually become something of your size?"

I laughed at his barrage of inquiries. "Slow down there, Justice. First of all, Wynne is a female, like me. You can call her a she. To answer your questions..." I thought back on what he'd asked. "No, she can't move by herself yet; no, she can't talk; and growing just happens. It's what living things do. The body you inhabit was once this small, a long time ago."

Justice's clouded eyes widened. He was getting the hang of facial expressions, it seemed. "Preposterous. There must be magic involved."

I chuckled. "Nope. No magic. Just the miracle of nature."

"I remember Delilah when she was a baby," Nathaniel surprised me by speaking up next as Justice went to ponder this newfound knowledge. He approached cautiously, peering at Wynne like she might spring out of my arms and attack his face. She met his gaze levelly, unblinking, until the uptight man cracked a smile.

My eyebrows shot up, but I kept my mouth shut. Nathaniel didn't appreciate the breaking of his social norms being pointed out, and I wasn't about to spoil the moment.

"She's a good baby. Most would be screaming after such a long carriage ride," he remarked.

"Oh, you should have heard her back in Highever. Every night I was awake for hours thanks to her. I think it was because she missed her mother," Alistair countered, sighing. "Hopefully now that won't be the case."

Nathaniel looked as if he wanted to offer one of his hands for infant to play with, but at the last second he shied away, giving me a nod to tell me I could move on.

Next in line was Velanna, to my surprise. It had been one thing to tolerate meeting my human husband; I'd honestly expected her to retreat to her rooms as soon as she had gotten that out of the way.

The elven mage leaned over my child, her nose scrunched as she eyed the baby with scrutiny. "Hmph. She's cute," she admitted. "For a human."

"Uh, thanks," I replied, figuring it was probably lucky that she had even said that much. Alistair looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit it back due to Velanna's earlier reaction to him.

She nodded in response to me and withdrew, crossing her arms. Clearly she intended that to be the extent of her interaction tonight, so I shrugged and moved on.

Then, it was Anders' turn. Immediately he was kneeling so his face was level with Wynne's, waggling his finger and cooing all sorts of gibberish at her as she giggled back. I found myself unsurprised, as the mage made similar noises at his cat all the time.

"She isn't an elf?" he finally spoke in words I could understand, looking up at me curiously.

I shook my head. "Elves and humans make humans."

"Huh," he said, and went right back to adoring her. Wynne began squealing rather loudly, swiping at him with her tiny hands. Anders grinned, amber eyes shining. "Seems as though she likes me!"

I laughed and adjusted my hold on the baby. "Do you want to hold her?"

At that he looked startled. "Really? I mean, you'd trust a mage with your child?"

I snorted. "Anders, she was named after a mage. Of course you can hold her."

He stood up and towered over me once again. "All right, if you say so..."

Gingerly I passed the bundle into my friend's arms. For a split-second I felt a flicker of doubt - _what if he was right what if he hurts her oh Maker what am I doing_ - but I quickly snapped out of it.

As my burden was released, Alistair quietly moved behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. I placed my hands over his and squeezed softly, laying my head against his chest and momentarily closing my eyes. It felt so good to be together again. I wanted to melt into his arms and stay with him forever.

In the mean time, Anders gently rocked Wynne back and forth, staring down at her with an awestruck expression. "I've got to hand it to you; Jeirey, Alistair, you have made one cute kid."

Alistair chuckled, and I felt each breath he took through his chest. "Well thank you, Anders. Hopefully she'll grow to be even cuter."

"And hopefully you'll be around to see that?" I added, opening one eye and peering at the mage. "You could be Uncle Anders." Alistair let out a sharp breath above me. "What? She already has an assassin as an uncle. A wanted apostate couldn't hurt."

Anders smiled somewhat ruefully. "We'll see," was all he said. I frowned ever-so-slightly. He had brought up the subject of whether or not Wardens could leave the order before, and it wasn't hard to deduct that he wasn't going to be happy if he stayed put for the rest of his life. As the Warden-Commander, I supposed I had it in my power to dismiss him if he requested, but he could still be seen as a deserter. And not to mention I would be losing a friend.

But that was a topic for another day. I had to enjoy what I had while it lasted - there was no sense in worrying about things out of my control. If Anders chose to leave, then that's what he would do. I probably wouldn't be able to stop him either way, judging from his stories about his experiences at the Circle.

"Hey, I think it's my turn now!" Sigrun declared from beside Anders, her hands on her hips and her lips puckered in a pout.

"All right, all right..." Anders sighed, making one last silly noise at the baby before handing her over to Sigrun.

The dwarf was cautious, stiffening as the weight was transferred to her. But the tentativeness didn't last long and within a moment Sigrun was swinging Wynne around as if she'd been a mother several times herself. Although I trusted her completely, I eyed her closely the entire time.

"Wow, I remember seeing babies in Dust Town, but most of them were screaming too much to bother with being cute." Sigrun was always dropping horrible facts about her old life with a lighthearted smile on her face. I'd gotten used to it. Alistair, on the other hand, wasn't quite sure what to make of the perky yet utterly dispiriting girl.

"Can I be Aunt Sigrun? Since Anders gets to be an uncle and all. Or are there limited spaces for aunts?"

I laughed. "Of course you can be aunt!"

She beamed. "You hear that, little one? I'm your aunt now, I guess. Oh, I can't wait till you're older. I'll teach you sword fighting and how to sneak out of the house without your parents noticing, and... well. Probably shouldn't be saying all that in front of said parents."

I rolled my eyes as Alistair chuckled and shook his head. "Nathaniel? You want to join the family?" I asked, giggling.

The quiet man's eyebrows rose, and I could guess his thoughts fairly easily. Here I was, the murderer of his father and partial cause to the pariah reputation the Howes now had (which I was truly sorry for - I had no doubts there were many good people of Howe blood like Nathaniel himself), offering him to be considered a part of my family.

Nathaniel hesitated for a moment before smiling tentatively and nodding. I was happy that he had realized I had not killed his father without good reason and learned to trust and befriend me. I thought the Grey Wardens were a good influence on him and hoped they would continue to be to years to come. To be honest I wasn't sure how many years I could handle of this Commander of the Grey business; it was taxing work that I wasn't entirely fond of, plus I had a family to take care of now. Maybe Nathaniel could take over for me. I'd have to speak with him about it sometime.

Suddenly Oghren's voice boomed from across the room. "AHA! There they are!"

Startled, I nearly knocked my head into Alistair's chin from the jump I gave. "Andraste's heart and soul, Oghren!" I exclaimed as I disentangled myself from Alistair's arms. Amazingly, the dwarf's yelling hadn't so much as ruffled Wynne, who remained quiet and content in Sigrun's arms.

"Sorry, Commander," Oghren apologized with a cheeky grin. "I just saw Felsi's carriage pull up, is all."

My irritation faded almost instantaneously. I'd forgotten that Oghren's wife (or lover, or whatever she was to him) was coming along with their own baby. Oghren had mentioned the child once or twice before but had never elaborated, leaving me increasingly curious about it.

The doors opened and the room hushed as Felsi was shown in. Like Alistair before her, she possessed a bundle of cloth that concealed an infant. I went to greet her, and she seemed much warmer than the last time we had met - albeit, she had been intent on chewing Oghren out at the time rather than socializing.

"So, can I see the bundle of joy?" I asked with a grin.

"Ah, that's right, ain't it? I haven't introduced ya." Oghren approached Felsi and prepared to pull back the cloth from the baby's head. "Jeirey - er, Commander - meet... Jeirey."

My eyes widened and my hand flew to my mouth. "You- you didn't," I said in disbelief, staring at the now-uncovered dwarven child. The baby was bald and asleep, so there wasn't much to take in, but apparently it was a girl and was named... after me.

"Oh, wow," Alistair murmured from beside me. Usually he'd be taking a teasing jab at Oghren by now, but the display of devotion seemed to have sobered him. It had certainly done so to me.

Well, now I knew why Wynne had teared up when Alistair and I had announced we had named our daughter after her. This was overwhelming.

"I don't- I can't-" I stammered, not even knowing where to begin in reaction to such an honor.

"It took me some convincing to name her that, I must admit," Felsi explained. It made sense, seeing as the woman had only met me once during the Blight, during which I had been trying to convince her to forgive Oghren for some ridiculous offense he'd apparently committed at her father's funeral. I'm sure her opinion of me wasn't the highest.

"But," she continued, "Oghren talked a lot about you. Convinced me you're a good person, enough to be someone worth naming your child after, at least. Besides, it doesn't hurt to have a kid named after the Hero of Ferelden. I'm sure Jeirey'll be one of the most popular names in the country within a few years."

"Oh, Maker, I hope not," was all I could think to say at first. "But all the same, I'm speechless. Thank you so much."

Oghren beamed. "It's the least I could do, Warden." He'd always called me just "Warden" back during the Blight. It had turned into more of an affectionate nickname than an impersonal title, however, so I was fine with it. With a pang I realized how much I missed the rest of my friends - Leliana, Morrigan, Wynne, Shale, Zevran especially, and even Sten. But now was not the time to dwell on such feelings.

"Here, you can hold her if you'd like," Felsi offered, holding the bundle out to me. I took her gratefully, cradling her carefully in my arms. I had never seen a dwarven child, let alone a baby, before, and I was interested to see she didn't look all that different from any other baby, elf or human. On closer inspection, I discovered the baby was not bald after all, having a very thin layer of red hair coating her scalp. So she had Oghren's hair, then. That made me smile.

"Why don't we go introduce baby Jeirey to everyone else?" Alistair suggested after a moment, smiling and wrapping an arm around my waist before leading me to the rest of the Grey Wardens, where I exchanged my load for Wynne.

The rest of the evening was spent passing around babies and visiting. Eventually little Jeirey woke up and we discovered that she took on after her father in more than just hair color - she was _loud_. Wynne seemed intrigued by the noise, enough so to actually get her finally using her vocals to some extent as well. It was all quite cute.

Both girls seemed to really like Anders. And he them. Soon he was so comfortable holding them he made Felsi and me a bit nervous by tossing them in the air a few times. But luckily he always caught them, and responded to our alarmed glances with a chuckle and a "What? I know what I'm doing."

In time, it grew late, and the infants grew sleepy again. Everyone said goodnight and retired to their rooms. I gave Seneschal Varel an apologetic smile on my way up - certainly the nobles were less than pleased with me, and he probably had to deal with the brunt of their frustrations. But the older man was very understanding and didn't love the nobility any more than I did, so I trusted him to have everything well under hand.

Once inside my room, I excitedly showed Alistair the new oaken crib set up in the corner. "I got it as a gift from some dignitary down south. Dunno why, really - never met the person - but it's very nice. And beautifully crafted." I traced my fingers along some of the engravings, smiling fondly.

"Discovering the perks to being of noble status, are we?" Alistair laughed, gently lowering Wynne into the crib. She had fallen fast asleep on the way up the stairs.

"Oh, it's so good to see her again," I sighed. "I never knew how terribly a mother can miss a child until now."

"Well, she's here now, you can stop worrying," Alistair said, pulling me into a hug. "And so am I. In case you missed me too or something."

I chuckled. "You too, of course." Balancing on my tiptoes, I reached up and gave him a kiss. It was a welcome home kiss, soft and releasing of all the anxiety and sadness I'd felt since we'd been separated. It was wonderful.

When I pulled away, we changed into our sleep clothes and crawled into the giant bed. It felt much more cozy and relaxing now that I had someone to share it with, and I happily let Alistair wrap his arms tightly around me. He must have missed me a great deal too.

"I love you so, so much, Jeirey," he murmured, his forehead pressed against mine. "Writing it down in a letter just doesn't do it justice."

I let out a content hum. To be honest, I hadn't felt this happy and utterly _good_ in a long time. My friends were safe, there was no imminent doom threatening the world, and, most importantly, my baby was here and I had my Alistair in my arms.

"I love you too, Alistair."


	9. Epilogue

One fine day in Denerim, the capital city of Ferelden, a human man was walking along in the market district when he saw a young girl playing by herself in the midst of all the everyday bustle. Normally this wouldn't be anything to stop and marvel at, but this girl was particularly small. The man thought that maybe she was an elf, but as she moved around, her dirty blonde hair parted and he saw that she clearly didn't have pointed ears. For some reason, he was intrigued. Before he knew what he was doing he approached her.

"Where are you parents, little girl?" he inquired so as to not seem hostile.

She looked up at him from where she was kneeling in the dirt with striking green eyes. "Oh, they're somewhere around here..." She didn't seem too concerned and looked back down at her hands, which were cupped around something.

"How old are you? Are you sure your parents aren't looking for you?"

"I'm ten. And yes, I'm sure."

_Ten? _the man thought in surprise. Surely she was younger. "You seem a bit small for ten."

For a moment she was silent, and he wondered if he was being too nosy, but then she replied, "My mum's an elf, and my da's a human, if that answers your question." If she was annoyed, she didn't let it show. "As to where they are, they should be in the Arl of Redcliffe's estate. They're visiting Uncle Eamon."

The man was taken aback. The Arl of Redcliffe was this scruffy-looking young girl's uncle?

She noticed his surprise, and a small grin lit her face. "He's not really my uncle, but he raised my da."

He was even more surprised at that. He hadn't known Arl Eamon had raised any children besides his own son Connor.

"You'd be even more surprised of who my real grandfather is," she said nonchalantly, obviously wanting him to prod her further now.

He decided to humor her. "All right, who is your real grandfather?"

"King Maric," she said proudly.

Now that was just a bit too much. Disbelief filled his gaze. "Oh, really, hm?" The man had lived long enough to know the old king, and he knew for a fact that the legendary man had only one son, King Cailan, who was dead, and certainly did not marry an elven woman. Yet something else was there, in the back of his brain; an old memory, trying to resurface...

"Yes, really," she insisted, now standing up.

"How could that be so?" he asked. "Your father can't be King Cailan, Maker bless him. He's passed on just like Maric, and you said you were half elf."

"All that's true. What you're missing is that Da isn't _supposed_ to be King Maric's son," she explained, probably meaning that her father was the illegitimate son of King Maric.

The man narrowed his eyes. This all seemed so unlikely, and it _was_ a ten-year-old child he was speaking to. She was probably just making up idle fairytales. Then again, a voice inside him was telling him that she was telling the truth. It just didn't make any sense to him.

As he was about to speak, suddenly a voice called that caught the little girl's attention. "Wy-ynne! Wynne! Where are y- Oh, there you are."

The small child separated her hands to reveal a butterfly she had trapped. It flew away into the summer sky as she ran towards the approaching couple, a human man and an elven woman. Suddenly the man was flooded with memories; the Blight, the last Grey Wardens, the struggle to name a new king. He blinked, in a daze, as he watched the man - who looked eerily like the late kings Cailan and Maric - pick up the little girl with a smile and a laugh. The brown-haired elf watched with a warm smile, then turned to the man.

"Hello," she greeted. "I see you've been keeping my daughter company?" He could tell she was making an effort to not sound distrustful.

Before he could splutter a hasty reply, the girl spoke up, much to his relief. "I was just telling him about you, mama!" she said cheerfully. "He's not mean, don't worry."

The woman seemed to trust her daughter. "Oh, well then, I'm Jeirey, and that's Alistair, my husband. I'm - well, I'm sure you've heard of us if you're from around here." She rubbed the back of her head, trying to seem modest.

The man nodded, amazed. He was in the presence of the legendary Grey Wardens, saviors of Ferelden during the last Blight! He thrust his hand out towards Jeirey. "Wow, it's such an honor to meet you! Ferelden - no, all of _Thedas _owes you two everything!"

She gave him a strange look. "We're not the only two who fought against the darkspawn. You'd do well to remember that..."

His face heated up with embarrassment at his insensitive remark. "O-Oh yes, of course, forgive me..." He cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject. "I didn't know you two ever got married."

"Well, obviously we did," Alistair spoke up with a snort. Wynne giggled in his arms.

"Do you ever regret not becoming king?"

King Maric's last son raised an eyebrow. "I never wanted to be king, ever. And ultimately it wasn't my decision, anyway."

"Oh yes, the Landsmeet voted, didn't they?"

"Is that what they tell people now?" Alistair laughed. "Actually, it was all up to Jeirey."

Jeirey herself rolled her eyes and shook her head, a gesture that suggested she didn't want to talk about it. Instead she said, "Well, we had best get on our way. The reason we came was to get Wynne back inside for supper. It'd be a waste to not eat the Arl of Redcliffe's food!"

At that the happy family turned away to head back to the large estate. The man was left marveling at how lucky he was to have met them, and how surprisingly kind and _normal_ they had seemed.


End file.
